Noah caught a taxi and met Owen in the parking lot behind his building. He was dressed normally this time, no giant raincoat, but like her and Noah, he wore gloves and had a face mask slung around his neck. She’d forgotten just how tall he was, but standing in his presence she was reminded of his loping walk and a particular gesture of ruffling his own hair while he was thinking. His hairline had receded, but only slightly, and his jawline was more pronounced. She didn’t think she’d changed much in the past sixteen years, at least not on the outside, but still he gave no sign of recognition. She noticed that he stood back while she strapped in first Noah’s car seat and then Noah himself. Before Owen got in the driver’s seat of the Jeep, he lowered the windows and put on his face mask.
They pulled out into the street, and Noah fell asleep in his car seat almost immediately. There was something about moving vehicles that relaxed him. Planes, trains, and automobiles. Even if he wasn’t in la-la land, he was sure to be docile and happy.
“You know, we’ve actually met before,” said Sarah. “In Lansdowne, when I was at college. You were the visiting writer that year.” She watched as Owen’s head inclined sharply, though his eyes stayed focused on the road. “And my parents taught there. Well, they still do. Gretchen Howe and Frank Bailey.”
He shifted into second gear as traffic slowed. “I remember your parents,” he said, his voice somewhat muffled by the face mask, “but not you.” Sarah wanted to laugh at how little an impression she must have made on him, even though back then their brief interactions had felt loaded with import. When she told him truthfully that she’d loved his second novel, Blue Virginia, his eyes looked a little haunted.
“Thanks,” he said, glancing over at her for the first time since they’d exchanged greetings in the parking lot. “You and all my closest friends.”
Sarah couldn’t think of anything to say to that. No wonder Shillelagh Press had wanted to fire her.
“There’s a lot of traffic,” she remarked, raising her voice to be heard over the street sounds. The open windows were making things loud. She wished she could find a way to tap into the effortlessness of their phone conversations.
“People are avoiding the subway,” said Owen. “You should, too, as I keep telling you.”
“I would,” said Sarah, “but it would take me four hours to walk to work.”
They fell silent as they entered the Lincoln Tunnel. Her hair whipped around, strands of it blowing in her eyes. She tried to roll up the window, but the child lock was on. “Do you mind putting the window up?”
“Sorry,” said Owen, raising his voice over the echoing sounds of the other cars. “It’s better to keep them rolled down. Less chance of infection.”
“From me?” She was used to thinking of other people as the threat.
“I don’t know where you’ve been.”
“I guess you’re right.” Then she glanced back at Noah, who was still sleeping. It was true she couldn’t confirm what either of them might have been exposed to in a given day. The WHO had recently issued a travel advisory deterring tourists from visiting the city, but there were still millions of New Yorkers carrying on with their regular lives. Only now they could buy personal protective gear from every newsstand and vending machine.
“God,” said Owen. “It feels good to be on the move.” They had entered New Jersey, and he navigated along a road parallel to the river.
After Owen parked the Jeep, he took long swift strides across the gravelly parking lot, pausing every few seconds to let Sarah and Noah catch up. “Sorry,” he said, after his fifth stop-and-wait. “I can’t seem to make myself go any slower. It used to drive my ex-wife crazy.”
“It’s okay,” said Sarah. She remembered Rachel and how petite she was: a slim sprite who’d easily commanded the class’s attention with a magnetic intelligence. At length, Sarah said, “I meant it when I said I don’t know much about yachts.”
“That’s okay. I know more than I let on. I pretty much know what I want.”
“You think it’s getting worse, don’t you?” said Sarah. She came to a stop and looked over at Noah, who immediately crouched down to examine some ants on the ground. “So bad that you need to leave?” She paused. “Maybe I should be working from home. And keeping Noah home